Page 137 of Of Serpents and Ruins
I hadn’t really noticed it at the time beyond being shocked at how well I was doing.
Kine nodded in agreement. "We shouldn’t have had a chance, but we got Stella out even after she dropped out of the form. He spent more time coiling than when I fought him."
Lorna exchanged glances with Arjax then smiled. She tapped the spoon on the side of the pot. "Good."
"That confirms our theory then. Good news, Brandt. Lorna has something for you. It’s helped other shifters," Arjax said.
"I don’t struggle with shifting." Brandt’s brow furrowed. "I don’t even shift all the time, and I can’t if I’m not wearing my ring. This curse goes beyond that."
"It does." Lorna brought the silver pot over, the strong scent intensifying.
I fanned my face to push the smell away. "Ihlkit. It’s worse up close."
"So, obviously, you are capable of resisting the curse for a time," Lorna said, giving the pot a swift stir.
"There are moments of struggle," Brandt said, "but it’s futile. Eventually it takes over."
"Yet you fight nonetheless, and some part of you continues to fight because that is the part that keeps you from being as deadly as you should be." Lorna smiled softly. "You are a warrior through and through, little cousin." She poured a spoonful of the foul-scented liquid into a small clay tumbler. "Horrifying as this is, the curse is fascinating. That charm was influencing both of you. Making the power of the curse far more…compelling in more ways than one."
I brushed my fingertips over Brandt’s left hand. "It wasn’t your fault. I know you’ve done your best."
And he had fought. I knew that now even more than before.
"My best doesn’t matter when your life is at stake." He broke off as my fingertips grazed his knuckles. Then he caught my hand in his and gripped it close.
"That love is what the Gola Resh is trying to pervert and destroy, but it is also a strength." Lorna mixed up the liquid with hot water. "We have our veskares and veskaros, our most beloveds of all. The bond both of you share is uncommonly intense and the most like a Vawtrian bond I have ever seen between two non-Vawtrians. I don’t know if it is from the magic our ancestors wove into your shifter rings or if it is simply because this is what you are and what you share. Take strengthand comfort in the intensity of your connection. What the Gola Resh has done to you is obscene and blasphemous. It desecrates the sacred, yet your bond remains despite her efforts because, through all this, you have remained committed to one another. You have done your best to remain faithful and to put one another’s needs before your own."
"That does little good if I am not in my right mind," Brandt said, his fingers still laced through mine. "If I cause harm, my intent does not matter."
"Perhaps in some respects, but it matters for the fight you must go through. For my people, shifting near one’s mate is difficult, if not impossible, before a certain level of connection is established. But you, your whole race responds differently. You don’t have that same struggle. It is instead a different sort of focus. The curse that the Gola Resh has put upon you is a torment. That is its whole purpose. It draws your conscious mind back into a pain-filled state in which you are tormented until you obey the command pressed upon you. It overwhelms and destroys everything but that command."
I bowed my head, remembering how swiftly it had come over me, how fast that pain had twisted my thoughts to a single conclusion.
Lorna placed the tumbler in his hand. "When you are being pulled down into the curse and it is taking over your senses, you must fight it, and you will fight it by remembering your love for Stella." She indicated the tumbler. "You need to drink this. It will help you with your focus."
He sniffed it and grimaced. "What is it?"
Her expression grew more serious. "One of the worst slurs you can speak against a Vawtrian is to call them a skinchanger. It’s an insult that strikes to our core, but it’s also a term for something that happens in…horrifying situations. Our minds break apart, and we are trapped in between forms, consumedby grief and rage. A Vawtrian enduring this will be consumed by a single focus, usually alleviating the source of the grief or the madness, and they will tear apart anyone who gets in their way. If there is enough time and we know that a Vawtrian is likely to encounter something that will result in this, we prepare this brew and have them drink it. It doesn’t always stop it from happening, and many will fight it because they will want to deny the possibility of that loss ever occurring, but it does make it easier to resist the strain."
Brandt stared down at the liquid, scowling. "Do you think this will really work on me?"
"It’s an educated guess," Arjax rumbled, his arm resting on his knee. "There’s no way to know for certain, but it’s a good guess. At the very least, it can’t hurt anything but your taste buds. You probably won’t enjoy any food for a while. That stuff tastes worse than it smells."
Lorna narrowed her eyes at him.
Arjax shrugged. "It does."
"Drink it fast. Finish with water." Lorna gestured toward the tumbler.
Brandt sighed, took a deep breath, and then drank it. With a sharp grimace, he shook his head. "Well…if foulness of flavor is any indication of efficacy, it’ll work."
"Good." Lorna clapped him on the shoulder. "Now we’re getting ready to move out. That charm on your neck will keep the countdown accurately unless the Gola Resh intervenes directly again. We’ll be here if she does. Have more faith in yourself, little cousin. You’ve been fighting for your love all this time even when you felt like it was hopeless. I believe you’ll make it to the end."
Brandt got to his feet, finally looking at me. The myriad of emotions that flashed through those gorgeous eyes of his mirrored what was in my heart—love, fear, hope, despair,and need. He brushed his fingers against my neck, his brow furrowed.
For the scarcest of heartbeats, I hesitated. Then I crossed the distance between us and wrapped my arms around his neck, hugging him tight.
There was no haze between us. This wasn’t the curse trying to pull us toward one another. It couldn’t be.
